


Ordinary People

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [77]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Romance, best friends au, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: Prompt: Best friends who are the Old Married Couple but fail to notice they're falling in love until is too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This got long, so it's ging to have one more chapter. Please, please, pretty please, tell me what you think

Two months after he moved into the apartment across the hall from her, she got a running buddy.

They were, up until then, mere acquaintances who kept their talk to the hallway. She knew he was a Marine, he knew she worked as a secretary.

One night, though, she was walking back home after a long day at the office with her boss, working on his promotion and, consequently, her raise, when he, the guy from across the hall, might have saved her life.

Karen thinking about how she and her boss had done everything they could to make sure he would get the promotion, and now it was all up to the big bosses in the board, when she saw them, on the other corner. Young, loud, definitely looking for trouble.

With a deep breath and a muttered curse, she tried to look normal and not call attention to herself.

Alas, they saw her. Three of them started towards her, the fourth one delayed by a trash can he thought it would be fun kicking. She was reaching inside her purse for her pepper spray when, suddenly, there was an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against a firm body, walking with her.

“Now what are you doing walking alone at this hour in this lovely place of a neighborhood?” he asked and she breathed out, relieved.

“Hi, Frank”, she greeted, trying to ease the nervous feeling away. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

They kept on the way towards their building, the trouble makers giving up on harassing her, probably thinking that it wasn’t worth meddling with a soldier’s date.

He took his arm from around her when they turned the corner to their street, and she asked if he had just gotten home. He was wearing his uniform, that big duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

They climbed the stairs and she thanked him for saving her from those guys, he said it was no trouble, she asked if he wanted some coffee, or something.

That was their usual topic on the hallways: coffee. Traded tips on the best spots, opinions on big chains and small businesses, secret spots, stuff like that.

When she mentioned it, he said he actually brought some amazing stuff with him from his time abroad. Apparently, he had been in Kenya for a month.

After doing a quick pit stop in his own place to leave his stuff, he came back with the bag of beans and she brewed them each a cup.

“Oh yeah”, she said after taking a sip. “That’s amazing.”

“Didn’t I say.”

He ended up giving her that bag, assuring her he had brought more than one.

.:.

A week later, she was stretching before her morning daily run, the air that lovely shade of pale blue typical of the minutes before the sun rose, the street silent and quiet. Karen is not a fan of waking up early, but once she’s out of bed and outside, it’s worth it. She loves it when the city’s this quiet.

When she reached 12th Avenue and started running along the waterfront, he materialized by her side, making her jump.

“Oh my God, Frank, don’t do that!”

He laughed.

“Sorry. Mind if I join you?”

They ran along the waterfront until the sun started coming up, and then they ran some more towards a “good coffee cart”. It was American coffee, but it was honest. They made conversation with the young guy selling it.

On the way back, Karen watched, amused, as Frank stopped to play with the thirteen dogs leashed to one sleepy looking man, who said he didn’t mind.

“I’m a dog person”, he said, smiling, when he got back up to walk with her back to their building.

“Yeah”, Karen said, torn between laughing at how silly he looked, rolling on the grass with a bunch of dogs, and how sweet it was that he actually did it. “I kinda figured.”

When they climbed the stairs to their floor, she was sweaty and satisfied with her morning exercise.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

Karen is a private person. It was kind of a surprise to herself when the thought of running with him again the next day didn’t annoy her.

“Sure thing.”

.:.

From what she could tell, he was climbing the Marines hierarchy, little by little. After a year, she sometimes heard him on the phone, giving orders and telling people to “keep him informed”.

“You’re super loud”, she told him when he walked into her apartment, as she was sure he would. The smell of the pot roast she had in the oven was good enough to have him knocking.

Not that he did knock.

“You cook, now?”

“I’m trying”, she said, looking inside the oven, inspecting the progress of her dish. “My parents are visiting in two weeks, I want to be able to cook something for them.”

“How come?”

He was opening her cabinets and taking plates, setting the small table.

“They were, you know, less than thrilled when I moved here, and the main argument, after ‘hooligans and rapists’, was ‘you can’t even take care of yourself, young lady!’”

“And a meal is gonna prove them wrong?”

She sat on the floor and rested her back on the counter by the oven while he handed her a beer.

“It’s gonna prevent the talk about going back, I hope.”

When she took the pot roast and set it on the table, it was looking and smelling good. She watched him with hawk eyes as he took a bite. But he was quiet.

“The meat is chewy isn’t it?”

Frank looked at her.

“Is it seasoned ok? Too much salt? Oh my God. Did I put sugar instead?”

He grinned and swallowed it.

“Relax, ma’am, it’s fine.”

“Really?” Karen took a bite and breathed out, relieved. “Oh, thank God.”

Chuckling, he took another bite.

“It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She made me promise I’d only cook it for my husband.”

He laughed out loud and she followed.

“Sorry, grams”, he said.

“I’ll try for the fish with mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables tomorrow”, she said, looking at her grandmother’s recipe notebook while he dried the dishes after dinner.

“I like fish.”

“Let’s hope I don’t kill you.”

By the time her parents arrived, she had learned five dishes, her fridge was full of healthy stuff she never bought normally, virtually every inch of the apartment was scrubbed clean. There was even a cross hanging on the wall by the front door.

She saw the look in their faces when they climbed the stairs, and her father’s question about the neighborhood was expected.

In the end, the meals pleased. She was glad when they told her they were staying in a hotel near Times Square. She had been ready to give up her bed and sleep on her couch for those five days, but she knew they’d be more comfortable in a hotel. Plus, her couch was not that nice.

They meet Frank by accident. She’s waiting for them - they’re going to a restaurant and then watch the least controversial musical she could find - when she hears her mother laughing outside the door.

Opening it, she found her parents laughing at something Frank had said. They made quick conversation and he says he has to run, but it was a pleasure to meet them. He kissed her mom’s hand and shook her dad’s, nodding and going “ma’am” and “sir”, and Karen gave him a look while her parents made their way inside. He only shruged and flashed her a smirk before they closed their doors.

Frank was not really mentioned until the last day. She went with them to the airport, and was waiting for Mrs. Page’s comment on him. Her mother would never leave without saying something.

“Honey”, she said while her dad checked their bags. “About that neighbor of yours.”

“Mrs. Martinelli?”

“No, silly. That nice one, across the hall from you.”

Karen took a discreet breath.

“Mr. Castle?”

“Yes, um… Frank, he said.”

She waits.

“What about him?”

“Well, he’s nice. Easy on the eyes, too.”

“He’s my neighbor, mom.”

“Oh, I know, I know, it’s just… The way he talked about you. He likes you a lot, baby.”

“He’s a Marine. The way they talk about people, I don’t know, it’s respectful, it doesn’t really mean anything.”

“He says you run together?”

She’s gonna kill Frank.

“Sometimes.”

That know-it-all smile appeared on her mom’s face and Karen had the urge to bang her own head on the nearest wall.

“He seems like a good man.”

“He is.”

They leave it at that. After Karen hugs them goodbye and her father says that they expect her to visit them for Thanksgiving, her parents go through the security line and settle in two seats by their gate.

“I’ll admit”, Mr. Page says. “It’s all much better than I thought.”

“Yeah”, his wife agrees, thinking about the ruggedly handsome, nice man that had a glint in his eye when he talked about her daughter. “I have a good feeling about this.”

.:.

Sometimes, she finds herself in the middle or his crew, the only woman at the table, listening to their stories while they laugh and drink in one dingy bar after another. These guys have the talent of finding the sketchiest looking places in town, and making themselves at home there.

They love to talk shit about each other and tell her, again and again, about the tough spots they find themselves during their missions. Most of the stories are heavily redacted, because, it seems, everything is classified. Karen doesn’t even understand half of their drunken stories, because all the information comes in bits and pieces.

“It that how you got that bullet on your shoulder?” she asks him after another tale.  

She has seen the scar, how he winced sometimes, when he came back from that particular tour.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And the medal, too.”

“To Lieutenant Castle!” one of the men, Micro, she thinks, say out loud, raising his glass, and Frank actually smiles. Karen raises her glass and clinks it against the men’s. “We love you, you crazy son of a bitch.”

After that, they go back to the funny parts. His impressions are hilarious, the pranks they pulled on him are pretty good.

It’s almost three in the morning when someone decides to crank up the jukebox, and Micro is suddenly standing, begging her to dance with him, just once.

They are, all of them, very respectful. Maybe Gosnell has something she doesn’t really know how to classify, a certain quality that makes her not really trust him, but the rest of them are ok.

Her feet are hurting when Shining Star comes on and Frank, already drunk, gets up, taking her from Braxter.

“You had enough, go sit down”, he tells the man, whose shoulders sag.

Karen laughs at his singing. It’s not awful, but he sings it all wrong, changing words, spinning her around the floor.

When they come back to their table, he asks if she wants another drink and she shakes her head, giving him the rest of the one she’d been nursing, she doesn’t want it anymore. He drinks it happily, ordering another round and it’s so loud, but it’s also very fun.

Her favorite one is Micro. He sits on her right at the booth that covers the whole wall at the back of the place when Frank lies down in it, his head resting on her lap, and passes out. She laughs with his friends while he snoozes, making easy conversation with the one, she could tell, was Frank’s right hand.

The bartender announces last call and Karen figures it’s time to go.

“Come on”, says Gosnell. “One more.”

“We’re gonna call it a night, actually.”

They all complain, but she rubs Frank arm to wake him and he turns to lie on his back, opening his eyes to look at her.

“Time to go”, she says and he nods, taking a deep breath, getting up slowly.

He gives her his wallet, asking her if she could take care of their tab, and she moves up to pay for their drinks.

When she comes back, he gets up and throws his arm around her shoulders, and she has to lock her knees not to fall under his weight. Micro goes in front of them to hail them a cab and she places a hand on Frank’s chest, another on his back, steadying him while they walk out.

He lies down on her lap again once the cab drives away and Karen waves at Micro.

When he goes back inside to pay for his own tab, he has a smirk on his face.

“I’m telling you”, he says, taking a sip of his last drink of the evening. “He’s gonna marry that one.”

.:.

When he meets Maria, Karen makes the mistake of breathing relieved, thinking that he’ll stop pestering her about her romantic affairs.

He hates all of her dates and occasional boyfriends. Hates them. They are, all of them, punks, assholes, not trustworthy or just plain stupid. According to him.

When Maria became more than his usual month long fling, Karen thought that he would stop with the gratuitous hate.

She thought wrong.

At first, Maria would laugh at the way Frank would glare and tell Karen to dump one guy after the other. She was thankful, at least, that his girlfriend wasn’t one of the many that didn’t like Karen, or saw their friendship as more than what it was. Maria was cool, Karen liked her a lot.

After six months, Frank started rubbing off on her. Their favorite thing was to barge in after her dates and ask for details. Maria was actually helpful, giving honest insights, unlike Frank, who would scoff and say “I don’t like him”, to every single one.

The one boyfriend Frank did like was Matt Murdock. But, Karen suspected, it was just because they both were pretty athletic guys, and Matt didn’t bow his head when Frank puffed up his chest and put his mean face on, like all the others. It helped, maybe, that Matt couldn’t see his mean face, so there’s that.

He never complimented Matt or anything, but he didn’t tell her to dump him. For about a year, Frank would actually engage him in conversation and, even if they had very different world views, their core was very similar.

Karen started getting worried when he started trading their morning runs to nights in the gym with Matt, where they’d punch each other to oblivion, but they both assure her they’re just working out, that’s what boxing is, don’t worry.

Both her and Maria are worried when their injuries start becoming uglier. Both Matt and Frank shrug them off, “it’s normal, we’re boxing, that’s all.”

Well. At the very least, they’re getting along. Karen’s life is much easier when Frank is not pestering her about bad taste in men, and she’s thankful Matt is not jealous.

.:.

She breaks up with Matt at right about the same time things go to shit with Maria. It hurts a lot, she really, really did think Matt and her could be something special, but it’s way worse for Frank.

Matt was caught up in a tangled, very messy web of things going on at the same time in his life. His law firm was not doing so great, he was caught up between wanting to help people and actually making a living, but what really affected their relationship was the presence of one of his ex-girlfriends - which he kept hidden from her.

It was messy, it was painful, it became ridiculous, even. So they broke things off. He had a lot, a lot of stuff to figure out, and as much as he denied it, his feelings for that woman were a big part of it. They were there, it was undeniable, and Karen was not in the business of fighting another woman for a man’s affection.

With Frank, though, it was a bitch of a situation.

Maria got pregnant after almost two years of being with Frank. When he found out, he could barely contain himself, so happy he was. Within a month, he got a ring. Within two months, they were engaged. Within three months, Karen was something called a Best Woman and Maria had a Man of Honor, they were all having fun putting a simple wedding together.  

And then, at four months, she woke up feeling not so great. And then she had to rush to the hospital. By the time Frank got there, she had already lost the baby.

At first, they carried on, leaning on each other, and Karen had never seen two people so miserable.

After another month, they started, slowly, getting back to normal life, but that weight was too heavy, they couldn’t seem to go through it. Maria, especially.

And then, one day, eight days after she ended her relationship with Matt, he got home from work (he went to a base everyday, now, where he was some kind of big shot guy), opened her door and sat by her side on the couch.

“You can cancel the next dress thing.”

She looked at him, unshaven and looking angry and sad and tired.

“Wedding’s off. The whole shit is off. She’s moving to Chicago.”

For some reason, she wanted to cry. Between Maria and the baby and Matt and her joke of a job and her parents pressure and everything, it was, suddenly, too much. So she did. Quietly, she rested her head on his shoulder while they both looked at her TV, and shed more than a few silent tears.

When she sniffed, Frank moved his arm around her shoulder.

“The world’s fucking falling apart”, was all he said.

.:.

Karen decided it was time to go back to normal one week after that. With a heavy body and a puffy face from crying over Matt the night before, she dragged herself out of bed and forced herself to get ready for the run she had been neglecting since Maria lost the baby.

Downstairs, when she looked at Frank’s fire escape and saw no lights, she sighed and went back in.   

She tried knocking. Not too loud the first time. A little louder the next. When she decided to use her key (the one with the little skull sticker, to differentiate it from hers), he opened the door.

He was in sweatpants, no shirt, with a duvet around his upper body, wearing it like a hobo would.

“Hey”, she greeted, worried. “Let’s go for a run.”

“Not today.”

He walked back inside, leaving the door open, so she walked in after him, closing it behind her.

“We should try and go back to normal, don’t you think?”

She followed him to his bedroom and saw him throwing himself on his bed.

“Do you even want to go?” he asked and she sighed.

“I think I have to.”

“Tell you what.” Sitting up, he reached for her hand and made her lie down on the empty space by his side, covering her with the blanket. “We’ll take today. And then tomorrow we go back to being people.”

It was exactly what she didn’t want to do, because, right on cue, she felt like crying again.

But it was warm and cozy and, as if on a schedule, it started raining. Wrapping himself further in his duvet, he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Tomorrow. Now sleep.”

The rain started getting heavier, and she remembered how Matt liked it when it rained. He liked it so much he woke her up once, dragged her to the roof of his building and stood there, shirtless, letting the rain fall on him, and then they had made out for almost an hour, while he told her how he had wanted her since the first time they met.

With a sigh, Karen kicked her running shoes off and cuddled further into Frank’s bed, closing her eyes, allowing herself one more day of mourning for the relationship that she thought was gonna be it.   

.:.

Slowly, they went back to normal. She got there first, of course, since she didn’t have to get over a child and an almost wife. But they got there.

Max helped a lot.

Max being the pitbull Frank got them, out of nowhere.

“Listen, don’t be mad”, he said someday over the phone, that same week he talked her out of running. “But I did something.”

“What did you do?” she asked, already panicking, sitting in the middle of a bunch of newspapers of The New York Bulletin. She was doing some digging for her boss on a case.

“Nothing terrible. It’s pretty fucking awesome actually”, he said. “You’ll see when you get home.”

When she got home, she had actually forgotten about whatever it was he had done, because the editor of the newspaper had told her she had a knack for journalism, to give him a call if she ever considered changing careers.

She was already thinking about it - because she did not want to be a secretary forever - when she opened her door.

Frank’s own opened and he ran back inside after saying “good, you’re here.”

She was getting herself a glass of water in the kitchen when he walked in, holding a puppy in his arms. A pitbull puppy. Small and gray and adorable.  

“Look what I got us.”

She felt her eyes bug out.

“What do you mean ‘us’?”

“Well, he said, placing the small pup in her arms. “I travel a lot, so I can’t watch him all the time. He’ll have to spend a lot of time with you.”

“Oh my God, Frank-” she said, looking from him to the dog, who looked up at her curiously. “Where did you even get him?”

“I adopted him. Told the lady is was a gift for my wife.”

She looked at him.

“Am I supposed to be the wife in this scenario?”

“Your name’s on the form, so yeah. Come on, let’s keep him. He can even run with us, it’s gonna be awesome.”

Sighing, she scratched the dog’s little ear.

“I don’t know, Frank, this is a huge respons-”

“You can name him and everything.”

The puppy was pretty cute. She had never had a pet, aside from the family cat growing up and the school fish. When the little thing yawned, though, she thought “what the hell.”

“Fine.”

Frank smiled and reached for the dog again, talking to it.

“But don’t you even dream about making a habit out of this. One dog is enough.”

They shared custody of the pup, who lived in both their apartments. It was funny. He loved Karen more than anything, and would follow her around all the time, but he respected Frank more. When he said “off the couch”, Max would obey in a second. When Karen said it, he would whine and roll on his back or under her arm, asking to stay.

Once he was a little older, they ran with him every morning. Soon, he was big and strong and would keep Karen company when Frank was off on another tour.

(He got the “not liking her dates” thing from Frank. But, to be fair, he wasn’t very keen on letting the women Frank brought home pet him, either.)

.:.

Karen had been working as a journalist on the Bulletin for almost a year when Frank got home with news.

After three medals from the Marines and an honorable discharge, he had gotten a call from Shield.

“The Averngers agency?”

“…Sort of. Shield came up with the initiative for the Avengers, the organization is much older than them.”

“What did they want with you?”

“They offered me a job.”

It was a better paying job, too. He had more power than he had in the government, not to mention clearance for a whole other level of secrets.

Karen thought that his new job would mean an increase of the things he would answer with “that’s classified”, but it was the exact opposite. Thanks to her new job, he would feed her a lot of information that, he said, it was pertinent that the public knew, along with a lot of sources that she could use to contest a lot of politicians’ lies to the media.

After another year, Karen was a becoming a big name in journalism, famous for the articles filled with irrefutable evidence. Needless to say, she was not the government favorite person.

Frank grew inside Shield. Soon, he had a nickname: the Punisher. Word was he had no mercy when it came to criminals and “bad guys”. His method was simple: if you’re innocent, you have nothing to fear. If you aren’t, you have.

He didn’t like that nickname, but she didn’t see him do anything to stop it being spread around the agency.

.:.

On his birthday, she gathered his friends for some drinks at a bar.

“I hate this”, he told her when the almost twenty people that had gathered moved on to a bigger spot, with music and flickering lights.

“Stop being so grumpy”, she told him as they walked in.

Throughout the night, a waitress kept bringing her drinks, from men she didn’t know. Frank drank them all, glaring every time.

“Come on, let’s be real”, Trish Walker said, her own drink in hand, when Frank walked out to go to the bathroom and was stopped by a group of women on his way back. “You can’t tell me that nothing ever happened between you two.”

Karen rolled her eyes, sighing.

“Honestly, why does everybody think that?”

“Because, Karen!” Trish said, gesticulating a lot. Karen made a mental note to start intercepting her drinks. “You guys act… I don’t know, married! He complains about shit, he asks your permission to do stuff, you have each other’s apartment keys, you share a freaking dog! Come on!”

“He’s my friend! He’s my best friend, we take care of each other. That’s it.”

“Oh, Karen!” Trish relaxed against the plush seat they were occupying, sitting back up and pointing at him, who stood by the bar with a woman’s hand on his chest. “Look at him! That man is a beast. You never, not even once, thought about him in a _slightly_ different way than your bff?”

Looking towards where Trish was pointing, Karen stared at him. She had, of course, years ago, right after he moved into the building and would climb the stairs with his shirt off. But they had fallen into such a good thing so quickly, she valued his friendship more than anything she had.

“Because let me tell you something”, Trish went on in her ear, like some sort of devil, and Frank’s eyes found hers. “He thought about you.”

Shrugging slightly, he curved his mouth in that slight, almost not there grin, telling her he had been taken hostage by those women. She smiled back and raised her brows.

“No, he didn’t.”

“Yes, he did! A man like him will not look at a woman like you? Please. I would bet anything that you’ve been the star of more than a few of his fantasies.”

“Oh my God, Trish, shut up!” she reacted, and her friend laughed. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true! Give me a break. You can’t have a man like that living right next to you and not entertain these kind of thoughts, Karen, not if you’re into men. And that right there, my friend, is _all man_ , and you can trust me when I tell you, he _thought about it_.”

Sighing, Karen downed the rest of her drink and shook her head.

It had been very brief, the period of time she let herself think about Frank like that. Soon, they were too close, too intimate, too set in their ways.

“Frank, let me ask you a question”, Trish was saying, suddenly, and Karen was widening her eyes at her in warning while Frank pushed people around on the book so he could resume his seat next to her. “Have you ever thought about Karen in a sexual way?”

“Yes”, he says, not even hesitating.

Trish straightens up in her seat and opens her arms in a “I rest my case” motion, and Karen turns around to look at him. He shrugs.

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Trish starts again.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I had a few colorful dreams about you, for a good month after I moved in.”

That, for some reason, makes Trish laugh and Karen’s mouth drop open.

“You were wearing yoga pants every time I saw you, ma’am, it was not my fault.”

“You see me in yoga pants every morning!”

“And every morning I notice. It’s ok. We’re grown ups.”

He leaves it at that, ordering a beer for himself and Trish looks at her, smug and full of “I told you so”s, and Karen decides that it’s his birthday, but it’s her turn to get drunk.

She’s vaguely aware that he carries her home when the sun is about to come up, taking her shoes off and putting her in bed.

“Hey”, she calls when he stands back up to leave, reaching a hand for his. When he takes it, she pulls him until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, upper body over hers. “I’m sorry I got drunk.”

He smiles (she thinks).

“It’s ok. You had a good time.”   

“Happy birthday, grandpa”, because he was turning 36.

And then she pulls his face until his mouth is against hers.

It’s an innocent enough kiss. A press of lips that lasts about five seconds, and when he lifts his head from hers, he has one of those smiles on.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome”, she says, turning around, holding a pillow to her, ready to fall asleep. She also doesn’t have her dress on, she realizes.

Oh well. It’s not the first time he’s seen her in her underwear, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

He watches as his team bring the asshole down, all wrapped in his fancy hotel robe, and put him inside the van.

“Miss Allegra was apprehended by the Bravo Team, sir”, one of them men tell him. “I was just notified.”

“Excellent. Was there any trouble upstairs?”

“No, sir. He was not expecting us. The device was on the desk, the safe was empty.”

“Alright, then. Take him in and get ready to go back to home base. Let’s wrap this up.”

The men move to follow his orders and Frank wishes every mission was easy as this one.

Of course, you should never speak too soon.

Their easy target, as it turned out, had a contingency plan in place and tried to pull a Wilson Fisk on them, sending his men to surround the car.

Only Frank’s team was not as unprepared and easily sold as the FBI. They took the hostiles out and secured the device, but Omar managed to escape in a car.

Frank was forced to chase him, the team’s helicopter hovering above the fugitive. Luckily, the small Italian city doesn’t have a lot of places a car can hide from a helicopter. Luckily, it’s a shitty car. Luckily, it’s a shitty driver.

They manage to corner themselves and Frank has to jump down, gun pointing at the man driving the car (who was shaking) and Finnick Omar, with his robe, looking ridiculous on the back seat.

“Step out of the vehicle, asshole”, he ordered after telling the shaking man to kill the engine, hoping Stundner kept the bird steady and  the rope on his belt didn’t tug on him, making him lose his aim.

After the suspect was taken in for questioning (Fury wanted this one personally), Frank and his team got the all clear to go back home. Just in time, too. Karen had called him last night saying that Max was at the vet. Apparently he had eaten something from the ground during their run that morning, and gotten sick. “They’re flushing it out, and she says he’s gonna be ok, but I’m freaking out.”

“I’ll be there soon”, was all he could offer. “He’s gonna be fine.”

“He couldn’t stand up, Frank!” she went on, full on crying. “I had to ask Daniel from downstairs to help me get him in the car, and Max could barely keep his eyes open. I thought he was going to die.”

“Hey, listen. You did the right thing, he’s being taken care of, now. What else did the vet say?”

“He’s gonna have to spend the night here”, she told him, and he wanted to punch something at the sound of her voice, weak and small. “She said it was probably something he ate or drank, but I kept my eyes on him at all times. I don’t know how this happened.”

He went on to assure her that it was not her fault, that dogs eat shit from the street, that’s normal. It was just bad luck that picked something that made him sick. Before they hung up, he promised to call her as soon as he could.

Now, he boarded the company plane, that huge shield plastered everywhere, and took his phone out again.

“He’s ok”, she told him. “I’m getting off work now. The vet says he’s out of danger, but she still wants to keep him one more night, just in case.”

He sighed, relieved.

“That’s good. How are you?”

They talked for a few more minutes before the pilot arrived and they had to take off.

“I’m bringing you some of that coffee you like”, he told her, glad to listen to a chuckle before he hung up.

“How’s the wife?” asked Micro, sitting in front of him.

“She’s fine”, Frank said, distracted, looking at his phone, and then he looked up at his friend. “What?”

The look Micro gave him was a funny one.

“You’re so whipped, man.”

“The hell you talking about?”

“It’s been, what? Nine, ten years? And you’re still with the ‘we’re just friends’ bullshit?”

Frank rolled his eyes and looked out the window, inspecting as the small Italian city kept getting even smaller as they rose higher and higher from the ground.

“Don’t start.”

“You don’t start. Come on, man, let’s be real.” He closed his ever present computer and placed it on the table between them. “You practically live together. You do everything together. You share a freaking dog. You didn’t even flinch when I called her your wife just now.”

Micro has been teasing him about Karen for a few years now. Since he and Maria broke up and he adopted Max, he kept hinting that there was something more between them.

“Don’t tell me you don’t love this woman, it’s obvious to everyone.”

Well, of course he did. Karen was the closest thing he had to a family, it was impossible for him not to love her.

“I keep telling you-”

“Nah, man, don’t tell me she’s your friend. You haven’t had a serious relationship since Maria, and neither has she, since that lawyer guy. Why? Because you already are in one, with each other, you’re both just too dumb to see it.”

Frank didn’t say anything, because he didn’t have any new arguments to use, and because, maybe, Micro was a little bit right.

It has been a month since that kiss she planted on him after his birthday. They haven’t talked about it since, she acted normal the next morning, crawled on the couch and stayed there all day, nursing a hangover, making him close all the curtains in the apartment and kill all the sources of light except the tv. But he had thought about it. It felt natural, that one simple, innocent, PG-13 kiss. It would feel natural, too, for him to keep kissing her, shed their clothes and crawl into bed and under her covers. It would feel so natural that, when he didn’t, he felt heavy.

He had chalked it up to that usual explanation: Karen is a beautiful woman and he is a heterosexual man. Nothing that biology couldn’t explain.

Still. It remained there.

“I’m telling you, man”, Micro went on, opening up his celebrity gossip magazine. “Put a ring on it before someone else does. And believe you me, someone will, sooner rather than later.”

“We’re estimated to arrive in five hours, sir”, said the pilot on the intercom.

“Alright, Duarte, get us home safely”, he told the pilot from his chair.

“Yes, sir”, Duarte replied and Frank killed the line for now.

The rest of their flight was uneventful. Micro read his magazine, typed on his computer, brought him up to date on the situation on the ground (Fury was pleased with their successful capture of Omar and his device), and then dozed off, snoring in his chair.

Frank didn’t regret bringing him along when he was recruited by Shield. He was a handful, but was, without a doubt, the best man he had ever worked with.

His mind went back to Karen when the cabin was silent. And he didn’t even have time to ponder on the question Micro had raised too much. As soon as he pictured her face again, his heart beat a little faster, and the feeling of home that flared up inside him made it clear.

He was in love with her. Had been for a very fucking long time, now. He kept thinking back, trying to decide when was it that it had happened, and he couldn’t, because that feeling was there, since, apparently, always.

He texted her, asking for news on Max, but she didn’t respond. He figured she was either with him at the clinic or already home, maybe asleep.

He kicked Micro’s foot when they were about to land, waking him up, the rest of the team rousing around them..

Before he could call Karen to know where he should meet her, he had to deal with some paper work, some stuff he had to sign.

“Oh, and sir? You got a message earlier, from a… Mr. Gosnell?” his assistance checked while they walked towards his office and Frank almost froze. Micro looked at him, alarmed.

Gosnell had not taken the break up of their team lightly. Frank tried to bring him to Shield along with Micro and two more, but none of them made it pass the screening phase. The other two went back to the army, but Gosnell was discharged. He had been creating some problems for Frank ever since.

“What did he want?”

“He didn’t say, just asked when you would be back.”

“Did you tell him?”

“No, sir.”

Well. He’ll deal with that later.

It was an hour longer until he was good to go home. Walking out of his office, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called her, feeling strange and excited with the newfound knowledge about his feelings for Karen and her possible mutual feelings for him.

His blood froze inside him when the call was picked up, but it was not her voice that greeted him.

“There he is.”

Gosnell.

“We missed you, Frank”, he said in his ear.

“Where is she?” he asked, his body vibrating already.

“Now, now”, sounded Gosnell’s voice, low and menacing. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He had taken Karen. He had also poisoned Max, so the dog wouldn’t be able to defend her and Frank wouldn’t think too much of it when she didn’t answer his calls.

He wanted Shield to release Omar and the device. As it turned out, Gosnell had joined Hydra after Shield rejected him.

It didn’t take too long. He gave Frank their location and he got there with his team eight minutes later, walking in the building alone, his gun in his holster.

Karen was awake when he got there, but was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She was chained at the wrists, hanging from the ceiling, her knees grazing the floor.  

“Let me promise you this right now”, he said to Gosnell when he saw a drop of blood fall from her chin. “I’m going to kill you.”

Hi former team-mate had laughed, amused, theatrical, almost demented.

After he got from him that the sedative he had injected Karen with was going to fade, no antidote needed, Frank took his gun and shot once, right in the middle of his forehead. The body of his former friend had barely hit the ground when he was on her, lifting her in his arms, and his team was barging in, one of the men rushing to get the chains from her.

“Hey”, he whispered to her and she blinked up at him, groggy, a thin trickle of blood  staining her face from a wound in her hairline. “Hey, it’s ok, it’s over.”

“Frank”, she whispered back.

“I’m here, I’m here, I got you now.”

His hand on her face was warm and shaky, his own breathing coming hard.

Breathing out, she closed her eyes and passed out, her head tumbling back. Before he could panic, the medic Micro had waken up and brought along was there.

“It’s ok, sir. It’s just the sedative. She’s breathing and her heartbeat is ok. Temperature is good.”

Frank breathed a sigh of relief and dropped his face to hers, squeezing his eyes shut, lips against her cheek.

They were gonna be fine.

She woke up in his bed, a few hours later. There hadn’t been any need to take her to the hospital, the car had taken them straight home. There were a few people putting her apartment back together. She had put up a hell of a fight when Gosnell took her.  

“Frank?” she called.

“Hey, I’m here.”

She squeezed his hand weakly and he forgot everything he had been practicing in his head to tell her.

“Are we home?”

“Yes, we’re home, don’t worry, now.”

He had practiced. Decided he was going to give her some space, talk about feelings some other time, when she was better. He couldn’t, though. Getting up from the chair he had placed by the bed, he moved to sit by her, and she closed her eyes again, breathing deep while he caressed her face.

Frank waited until she opened her eyes again to look at him.

“Did you kill him?”

Swallowing, he nodded, wondering how she was going to react to that. Karen blinked and then nodded back.

“He said he was going to take me from you. Make you watch him kill me.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shushed her, not even wanting to think about that.

With his forehead on hers, he felt as her hand closed around one of his wrists.

“I wasn’t gonna let that happen. I’m never gonna let that happen, you hear me?”

She nodded again and he felt her breath on his lips. Leaning in, he placed another one of those kisses on her, soft and small, but full of everything he didn’t know how to articulate.

When he moved back, she looked up at him and he ran his hand on her face again, now clean from the blood that had staind it earlier.

“Nobody is ever taking you from me.”

She knew him better than he knew himself. She understood him, even when he didn’t say anything. Or when he said it indirectly. They looked at each other, not saying anything, but they both knew.

Slowly, a smile curved her mouth up and he felt it, right there. The change in them.

With that smile on her face, she blinked and said “ok”, as in “ok” to his promise, “ok” to this new change, “ok” to them.

And then a lot of things happened in quick succession. First, right when he leaned into her again, the world seemed intent on cockblocking him.

She was opening up to his kiss, both hands on his face, when there was a knock on his front door.

“Sir?”

Sighing, Frank closed his eyes and well. He figured she still has to rest, anyway.

“I’ll be right back”, he whispered against her mouth, nose bumping on hers sweetly, and she nodded, almost shy.

“Don’t take too long”. And then, with a coy expression and a tint to her cheeks, “Sir.”

Groaning, he got up and went to deal with whatever it was that needed dealing.

“What kind of lock do you want on her door?”

Second, Micro got in his way. For all his talk about him “sealing the deal”, “putting a ring on it” or whatever, he sure had an awful timing.

“Knock knock!” he announced instead of actually knocking. “I got your mutt home!”

They heard the noise of Max’s paws making their way to his bedroom and then he was jumping on the bed, Karen was opening her arms to him, cooing and petting and kissing.

“Hello, ma’am”, Micro said, walking in, catching one of her hands to kiss it. “Quite a scare you gave us. Don’t do that again.”

“I’ll try my best”, she smiled up at him.

“So the doc says the mutt is fine. He does need to have these pills, though, for a week”, he said, sitting down on a chair and tossing a box of them to Frank.

They talked for a while longer, Max enjoying the rare opportunity to be allowed on Frank’s bed, thrown dramatically over Karen’s legs while she caressed him.

Then, they had a fight.

“Oh, that reminds me”, Frank said when the team next door announced that her place was back in order, along with a new alarm system and a more secure set of locks. “I’m gonna put a tracker on your phone.”

“No, you’re not”, she said, immediately.

“Karen”, he said, his voice a warning. “Come on.”

“You come on. You’re not putting a tracker on my phone, Frank.”

“You were just taken, how are you fighting me on this?”

“We already had this discussion a year ago!”

“You were not taken a year ago.”

“I don’t care. The answer is still the same.”

They went back and forth with “how am I gonna know where you are?”, “Ask me!” “What if someone takes you again?”, “Oh, come on, what are the odds of that happening?”, “A tracker is happening, Karen”, “If you want to track someone, track Max. He’s a dog. I’m a person” for a while. Neither of them  noticed when Micro rolled his eyes, got up and walked out the door.

“Jesus. Get married already” muttered under his breath when he closed the apartment door behind himself.

She still had to sleep the rest of the sedative off and he had a report to write before they could make their new status as a couple an official thing.

When she woke up, they were all, the three of them, starving.

“What do you feel like having?” he asked, standing up by his bed while she kneeled on the mattress and put her arms around his neck.

“Hmm”, she said, driving him crazy with her lips on his jaw, hands moving around his chest. “Breakfast food.”

He smiled, angling her face to his, kissing her deeply, as if her kisses would be enough to satisfy him.

“Croissants. And cream cheese bagels. Eggs and bacon and a donut for dessert.”

Frank would love to keep this going. Let her lift his shirt off him, lie her back down and lose track of time with her, but his stomach was hurting him, she needed to eat, and Max was complaining, pulling on his pan leg with his teeth (asking to be fed or just trying to keep him from Karen, he didn’t know for sure).

“Why don’t you go get all that”, Karen suggested, hands on his face, now. She liked that and so did he. “While I take a shower, get the ‘kidnapped’ air out of me?”

“Ok”, he agreed, wrapping his arms around her for a bit longer, not yet ready to let go.

“And then we can… I don’t know. Talk, or something.”

He looked at her and she blinked at him that way she did every time she said something she knew he wasn’t going to like.

“Talk?”

Karen nodded.

“Yeah. I think we should. Don’t you?”

It was not exactly the thing he had in mind, but yeah, he figures they should.

“Ok. But you should eat something before your shower, though. Like a cracker, or something.”

He left after she had some saltines with a bit of cheese and was pouring Max’s preferred food on his plate.

Frank flew to every bakery he knew in a three block radius, Whole Foods and whatnot, and walked back home with two bags worth of every baked good he knew she preferred for breakfast. He would have to work on the eggs and bacon himself, since the one place that made her favorites, with nutmeg and low sodium salt was closed at this hour. He took bites off a banana muffin on the way, to get his stomach to quiet down.

When he opened the door again, Max was on his dog bed by the couch, chewing lazily on that meat stick thing he loved, and Karen was sitting on his favorite chair. She got up when he walked in, hair wet and combed back, looking fresh and cozy and beautiful and holy shit, how he managed to go eight years being just her friend was beyond him.   

“I got your croissants”, he said, putting the bags on the kitchen counter while she walked towards him. “Also that yogurt, with the honey and that purple flower? They had it, I thought they-”

He stopped talking when she reached him and supported her hands on his shoulders, jumping up and locking her legs around his waist. His keys fell to the floor when he moved to hold her, his face being pulled up, closing his eyes when she kissed him.

“I thought we were gonna talk?” he said when she stopped to breathe.

“We can do that later”. She ran her lips against his, a hand on his face and another around his shoulders. “Take me to bed, Frank.”

He let go of his wallet, that he still held in his left hand, and took a step towards his bedroom.

“Yes, ma’am.”

.:.

Sex with Karen felt, at the same time, as natural as breathing and mind blowingly amazing. He chalked it up to knowing each other for almost a decade, but it was like they knew what to do, they knew how to move, there was very little “experimental” time. He learned quickly and she learned quickly, and that first time with her left him addicted, like some super drug that made his brain work exclusively to give him pleasure, to give her pleasure.

And that he did.

Karen pulled on his hair and dug her nails on his skin, wrapped her legs around him tightly, moaned against his mouth while he moved inside her, his own head spinning, spinning, his own hands gripping her tightly. Frank had to close his eyes and focus when she responded to his every move and every touch and every word.  

He was pretty good at sex. He knew that. But, really, it was a whole other category when it was the two of them. He couldn’t believe he spent eight years missing out on this.

Later, when he brought her breakfast-dinner to her in bed (not so much because she was still “getting better” but because he felt the sudden need to spoil her), she was wearing one of his sweatpants and a bra.

“You know, just by looking”, he said, setting the tray full of goodies down and settling himself in front of her, each of her legs around him. “You can’t really tell how big these are.”

She laughed out loud when he tugged on the cups of her bra, dropping his face to plant a kiss on the left breast.

“You looked a lot?”

“Not a lot. Just a normal amount.”

They ate their food and he kept intercepting her hand when she moved to sneak little pieces to Max, who had sneaked in and sat by the bed looking absolutely miserable, even when they all knew he had a full stomach.

He couldn’t really say that things changed much between them after that. Other than all the sex and the fact that some PDA was part of their thing, now, it was all pretty much the same. He still picked up her groceries when shopping for himself, she still did his laundry along with hers. She still had shoes in his closet, because they didn’t fit in just hers anymore, he still stole her shampoos and creams. They still shared books.

“Frank”, she called him one day when he was standing in front of the tech team, while they measured him for a new bullet proof vest, that was supposed to be lighter, but more efficient.“I can’t get into my apartment.”

“Why not?” he asked, his arms open while some kid held his phone to his ear.

“Because I can’t remember the stupid password!” she complained. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, ma’am, it’s your apartment.”

She made an angry noise and he heard her pressing the keys again.

“This is ridiculous. I can’t get into my own home because you’re a security freak. I’m going into your place.”

“Ok.”

“Just so you know”, she said, irritated, while her keys clinged together while she opened his door. “I’m eating your chips.”

When he got home, she was sitting on his dinner table, typing away on his computer. He placed the take out dinner he had gotten on the way around her, slowly pushing the computer shut when the table was set.

“You’re done, no more work, come on”, he said softly while she bent to keep looking at the screen, typing faster.

Karen let him close the computer and move it to the couch.

“I’ve been thinking”, he said while she unwrapped the shrimp eggrolls she loved. “It doesn’t really make much sense, to have all this security installed on your place in a building like this.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you”, she nodded, chewing on her food. “These are excellent today.”

“And we’re both making more money, now, right?”

She looked at him.

“Yeah…?”

“And I know you think it’s unnecessary, but I meant what I said that day. No one is ever taking you again, so I still think you should have a good security system in place. Plus a tracker.”

“I’m not getting a fucking tracker, Frank, make your point.”

He sighed, almost amused. He’ll convince her one day.

“Why don’t we take Micro’s program and move it to a better place? Like, maybe in a neighborhood you actually like… Like the Village.”

She swallowed her food and looked at him with those eyes.

“Are you proposing we move in together?”

“We do live together already, don’t we? Only we have two of everything.”

“To the Village?”

“You’re always going on about how nice it is.”

“Frank”, she said, moving her body towards him. “Don’t tease me about the Village.”

He chuckled.

“I’m not teasing you. I’ve been looking at some listings, I think we can afford to move there. If you want.” He looked at her, feeling somewhat nervous, but hopeful. It’s no secret she doesn’t like this place, doesn’t like this building, doesn’t like this neighborhood. And they haven’t sleep in separate beds since that first night.

With a twinkle in her eyes, Karen took another bite of her eggroll and got up from her chair, slowly.

“A place with a bigger closet?”, she mused, moving towards him.

“Sure.”

“And a bathtub that doesn’t gross me out.”

He pushed his chair back when she got close to him, a hand on his shoulder.

“A nice kitchen for you to cook me dinners”, she went on, sitting on one of his legs, arm around his shoulders. “You’re always complaining about the kitchen.”

“I am.”

“What else could we have?” she asked, a hand on his face, pulling it up to hers, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe an office, so you don’t have to work on the kitchen table.”

“Hmm, good idea.”

“Oh”, he said, dropping his chopsticks to put both his arms around her. “We can even get a king size bed.”

She raised her brows and that playful smile stretched on her lips.

“We could”, she said against his mouth.

“We’re doing it, then?” he asked and she nodded, kissing him sweet and slow, wrapping her arms around him after, and he wrapped his around her, face hidden in her neck.

He heard her sigh and click her tongue.

“Damn. I hate it when my mother is right.”


	3. Outtakes/Deletes scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scenes I deleted from the final cut. Before each scene, I added a Before or After, as in before or after they became a couple.  
> Hope you like it! Tell me what you think!

[BEFORE]

[I swear I wrote this before Jon decided to adopt another pup (and name him after my own dog, for crying out loud), so this worked really well. Just picture a baby Max, and you’re set.]

She’s tired. She wants some cake and she wants a milkshake and she wants to watch Pride and Prejudice until she falls asleep. Maybe Magic Mike. XXL.

Karen climbs the stairs after work on a Friday thinking that, really, she ought to call that guy and accept dinner. But, after Frank mentioned it, he did have a little bit of a creepy vibe.

Not that she’s gonna tell him that, of course.

Well. Maybe that’s her, now. Staying home Friday nights. Maybe she used up all her fun Friday nights with her stupid ex boyfriend, who she fucking missed, even if he is a messy asshole. But shit, he was a charming asshole.

With a sigh, Karen turns the key on her lock, expecting Max to come greet her. Frank was probably out with some woman.

There’s no greeting. Karen sets her purse on the couch and walks towards the bathroom, where she hears Frank’s voice.

When she opens the door, she wants to scream and cry and go off on Frank.

He’s bathing the dog. In her bathtub.

The floor is a mess, wet and littered with stuff, from Frank’s shirt to a box of dog shampoo to an empty packet of Oreos. The tub she hates and never bathed in anyway is half full and Frank is sitting on the edge, one leg in, one leg out, wrestling a foamed up Max. Both stop and look at her with guilty faces.

“Hi”, Frank says.

After a moment, Max tries to jump over the edge of the tub towards her, but Frank stops him.

Taking a breath, Karen looks for something that can’t be fixed. She finds nothing, so she just eyes Frank.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”

Looking at Max, she has half a mind to ask why in the world he’s not at the petshop having his weekly bath, but she finds out she doesn’t really care. As long as he cleans it up.

Careful not to step on the wet tile, Karen moves to close the door.

“There’s Oreos on the counter for you!” Frank offers. “Double Stuff!”

She closes the door and moves towards the exit, stopping by her bedroom to pick up a pair of pajamas, getting the Oreos, walking out, unlocking Frank’s door and walking to his pristine bathroom.

After taking a quick shower, she gets into her PJ’s, orders them two burgers and shakes and settles on the couch, logging into Netflix and queueing up the movie.

When Frank and Max walk in, the dog is bathed and Frank is also clean and she’s about to dig into her burger.

He places the puppy on her lap, gets his own burger and moves to sit by her, picking up her feet, wrapped in socks and blankets, and putting them on his lap.

“How’s my bathroom?” She asks.

“Spotless. You could eat off that floor.”

She lifts her arms to stop Max from getting a bite and frowns while Lizzie Bennet walks all the way to Pemberley to see Jane.

“Did you use my shampoo on him?” she asks, moving to sniff the freshly bathed tiny pitbul on her lap. He licks her face.

“No”, he says all too casually, unwrapping his double cheese bacon and manspreading on the couch, and Karen forces him to close his legs by pushing his left with both her feet. Max slides from her knees to her lap when she does. “He knocked the bottle over and it spilled a bit.”

Deciding that if the bottle is halfway empty, she’s gonna send him to buy another one for her, Karen settles to watch and eat, slipping a tiny piece of bread to Max, to maybe make him settle down.

And then they eat and watch the movie quietly.

.:.

[BEFORE. FRANK’S BIRTHDAY]

He watched closely as Karen danced with Trish, both laughing and twirling around.

She waved at him to join them, but he shook his head, he was fine just sitting there, nursing his drink.

“Sir”, came Scott Bagley’s voice by his side. He, like every other man at the table, had been watching Karen and Trish dance together. “Would it be ok with you if I-”

“Shut the fuck up right now”, he said, not even looking at the young man.

“Ok. Right.” He hesitated. “What about Tri-”

“I mean it, Scott. Shut up.”

“Yes, of course, sorry sir.”

.:.

[ONE WEEK AFTER]

She was lying on her stomach, he was lying on his back. His breathing is under control again when she moves to support her head on her hand, elbow on the pillow.

“How did you know I liked that?” she asked.

“Liked what?”

“You know. With… the hand and everything.”

He turned to her and reached to pull the blanket off her, not yet fully used to the sight of her naked body.

“Maybe I’m just that good?”

“Well”, she leans in, kissing him slowly and sensually. “No matter how good you are, that was really specific. How did you know I like it?”

Frank sighed and caught her hand in his, both resting on top of his chest.

“Murdock told me.”

Her expression was, predictably, as if she had been shocked.

“Matt told you about that?!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!” she sat up and pulled on the covers to her chest, hair falling around her shoulders and fuck, she looked good. “How did that even come up?”

“It’s a nice story, actually”, he said, moving to sit up against a few of the one million pillows she keeps on her bed. “We were at the gym one night, and he took his shirt off, right? Because he was bleeding and sweating. And, as it turns out, there was a bite mark on his shoulder.”

Karen’s eyes went unfocused for a second, while she looked at a spot on the wall behind him.

“Oh…”. Apparently, she remembered.

“Yeah”, he went on. “I asked him about it, and he stood there, all smug. ‘Karen bit me’”, he mimicked, making her chuckle. “Apparently he had tried this little thing with you the night before and you liked it so much you sank your teeth on him.”

She let out what he had learned, a long time ago, to recognize as nervous laughter, and hid her face in her hands.

“Honestly”, he went on. “I’m kinda offended you didn’t bite me.”

“Oh, Frank, come on.”

“No, I’m serious. What is it that Altar Boy did that made you go so crazy that you tried to rip a chunk of him off with your teeth?”

“Altar Boy?” she smiled while he moved forward to reach her.

“You know, all that catholic thing he got going on.” He got close and touched his nose to her cheek, running his lips against her face lightly. “Don’t change the subject. Was he that good?”

“If you must know, yes. He was very, very good at sex.”

Playfully, he tackled her to the bed and she goes down laughing, that blond hair of hers all over cream sheets.  

“That second ‘very’ was really not necessary”, he whispered in her ear, taking the covers away from between them.

“Did you guys talk about this a lot?” she asked when he settled on top of her again.

“Not really.”

“But he told you about the hand thing?”

“Yeah, he told me about the hand thing. And lemme tell you this.” He reached between them and she sucks in a startled breath, gripping his arms, nails piercing, eyes closed. “I’m gonna get a reaction like that, even if it kills me.”

She laughs, but it’s weak, because he’s working his hand and it gets her arching her back and he’s watching her, measuring and cataloguing.

He doesn’t get his bite mark (yet), but he does go to work the next day with a very red, kinda sore set of half-moon shaped nail marks on his side, that stung when he showered.

.:.

He did get his bite mark, but not before four more months.

Frank had just touched down in New York again, after six days in the deep of the country, leading the recovery of a massive Shield weapons warehouse, when his phone rang.

“You back, yet?” she asked, and he heard an echo of sorts.

“Just landed.”

“Did you bring me my coffee?”

“When have I ever forgotten?”

“That is true. So, guess what.”

“What?”

“I’m at the new place.”

He felt that sense of happiness and downright giddiness start inside his chest.

“You finally got the key?”

“I finally got the key. And, best of all.” Karen dropped her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “They delivered the new bed.”

The king size bed he took forever to buy, because he couldn’t decide among so many options. The king size bed he wanted to be perfect, because he wanted her to never regret sharing a bed with him, ever. The king size bed that was the first thing they had bought together, as a couple.

Their bed.

“How does it look?”

“They’re putting it together now, it looks good. But I’m starting to think that maybe this place is too big, Frank.”

“That’s because you’re used to living in that tuna can we called home for almost ten years.”

“Maybe. So, are you on your way over?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Almost half an hour later, he walked up the steps to the brownstone feeling good. Better than he felt in a long time, actually. Walking to his new door - their new door - and climbing the stairs with a spring on his step, he met her at the foyer.

The smile she had on was incredible. Excited and happy and open, simple. It did falter a little when she took a good look at him, and he raised his brows, only then remembering her confession, two weeks ago, that she really, really liked to see him in his black uniform.

“Ma’am”, he said, studying her expression. Her eyes were still running over his body and he couldn’t help the proud and smug feeling inside him, but then she looked back at his face.

“Welcome home, Agent Castle.”

He took that big step to her and she raised her face to his, closing the door behind them. Rubbing Max’s ear when he came to greet him, he let her pull him by the hand and they walked to their new bedroom. He looked at the bed, with no blankets or pillows or covers yet, the big plush white headboard against the dark grey wall, by the big window that waited for the curtains she wanted for it.

“What do you think?” she asked when he stood behind her and hugged her to him, arm around her waist.

After a moment, he turned her around and moved to walk them to the second bedroom that would become the office, where the window already sported a curtain (a horrible one that they would get rid of).

“I think you should take your dress off, Miss Page”, he said.

“What if someone walks in, Agent Castle?”

“Nobody will walk in. This is a secure perimeter.”

Because she liked it when he talked tactical.

“Is it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Dress off, please.”

She moved to lower the zipper on her side and he closed his fingers around the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling just the right amount.

She was pressed between the wall and his body when he felt it, right on the base of his neck, teeth sinking in, a desperate effort to not moan out loud (because he had told her to keep quiet, the empty apartment would carry her sounds easily), her whole body shuddering, her hands tight on his short hair and his arm.

“I think you’re part vampire”, he teased, minutes later, looking at the print of her teeth on his reflection in the guest bathroom mirror while they put themselves back together.

.:.

[BEFORE]

“How is everything, honey?” her mother asks on the phone.

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old”, she replies, lying on her couch, three candles lit on her coffee table to compensate for the lack of electricity that plunged the entire neighborhood to darkness.

“And what about work?” her mother asks on the line.

“Well. It’s actually not that bad. But I don’t think I’m gonna get that raise.”

“Why not?”

Frank walks in, dropping his wallet and keys on the kitchen counter, using the flashlight on his phone to look inside her fridge, looking for dinner, probably.

“Well, they’re actually making cuts, so I’m lucky I’m not getting fired at all.”

“Who is it?” Frank asks, walking to the couch, the container with last night’s take out in his hands.

“My mother”, she replies.

“Who is that?” her mom asks, suddenly excited, and she could kick herself. “Is that Frank?”

“Let me talk to her”, the asshole asks, because he likes the way her mom fawns over him as if he’s a prince.

“No”, she tells him, trying to move the phone out of his reach, but he’s too quick.

“Hey Mrs. Page”, he says, his voice dropping to a low tone and Karen rolls her eyes, taking the food from him.

They talk for maybe five minutes and then he gives the phone back to her, sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table.

Her mother is laughing when she puts the phone back to her ear.

“Hey mom.”

“Oh, honey! He’s just delightful!”

“Yeah, he’s something.”

She is able to steer the conversation away from the topic of Frank and they spend a few more minutes talking about what’s new. Her nephews are two handfuls, and her brother is leaving them with her for a week, so he and his wife can take a vacation to the Caribbean.

She’s hearing gossip about the women on the prayer group when she spots a small piece of paper stuck to the back of Frank’s neck. She scrapes it off with her nail and distracts herself for a while, twirling the short but longer than usual strands of hair around her fingers.

“You need a haircut”, she whispers to him, taking the phone away from her mouth to do so.

After a minute or two, he lies down on the floor and picks her hand up again, placing it back on his head, asking her to keep playing with his hair.

.:.

[BEFORE]

Trish saw right through them.

They could try and fool themselves all they want, but she sees it.

It’s not just because Frank payed exactly zero attention to her. Well, it’s also that. Trish knows she’s a beautiful woman, knows the effect she has on men. Frank Castle? Zilch.

Maybe he’s not into blondes, she thought. Or maybe he’s not into women. Maybe he’s just not interested. Maybe he doesn’t feel like seeing anyone right now. Men who used to be in the army, sometimes it happens. They close themselves off, a quiet life is enough for them.

He fit that profile. Had his dog, his beer, his medals, his new job. Maybe romance was just not something he considered anymore.

She entertained that idea for less than 10 minutes. Until she saw Karen enter his line of sight again.

Yeah, he’s into women. Yeah, he’s into romance and he’s into sex.

He’s into her.

“We’re friends”, Karen had told her. “For years, now, it’s not like that at all.”

And Trish had believed her. For a while.

Thing is, she’s a smart woman. Trish was trying to poach her from the Bulletin to work with her at the station, she has potential. A good, clinical eye that could bring her far. Still, she could not see this, right in front of her.

Her bestie, next door neighbor and co-parent to the sweet pitbull, was in love with her. And she was in love with him.

It was a suspicion at first, but then all those little details, like Frank drilling holes with his eyes through every man that spoke to Karen for more than a minute straight, or Karen reminding him that he needed to change the bandage on his shoulders, taking his beer from him when she thought he had too much already.

And he didn’t complain. Let her do it. Just like that. A man that size, single, no girlfriend, no kids, free as a bird, and Karen did whatever the hell she wanted, bossed him around and he just did as he was told.

Like a good husband would.

And him, the way he moved and acted, as if protecting her from whatever, that was not what friends do.

Frank was always vigilant, even when he was distracted, playing with the dog, she could tell he knew exactly what was going on around them. When he was around Karen, though, there was a sweetness, a lilt to his voice and a little something in his eyes.

She’ll be damned if it isn’t love.

.:.

[BEFORE]

“You’re home early!” He exclaimed, greeting her as soon as she opened the door. “Give me a hug.”

That, right there, gave her pause.

“Why? What did you do?”

It’s not that Frank isn’t a warm guy, but demanding a hug like this is not him, at all.

With a face she just knew meant she was about to be angry, he stared at her.

“Frank. Tell me.”

He sighed and stepped aside, revealing a very satisfied looking Max, with one of her shoes in his mouth, completely destroyed.

“He had already gotten it when I got here. Can’t get him to drop it.”

Clicking her tongue, she took her purse from her shoulder and gave it to him, walking towards the dog.

It was not, thank God, one of the most expensive of favorite shoes. Still. Doesn’t make it right.

“Max”, she said, firmly, supporting one closed fist on her hip, the other one pointing to the spot on the floor right in front of her. “Drop it.”

The pitbull looked at her and whined, as he always did when she gave him an order.

“Max”, she repeated, more firmly. “Right now. Drop it. I am not kidding.”

He must have believed her, because suddenly he bowed his head and advanced slowly towards her, dropping he ruined shoe at her feet.

“Bad boy, very bad boy.”

Usually, when Frank scolded him, he would seek refuge with her. Now, he walked slowly towards Frank, head bowed, and hid behind his legs.

“Do you have to call him that?” He asked, still holding her purse.

“Today I do.”

.:.

[AFTER]

Everybody thinks Frank is this big brooding guy who’s always scowling and doesn’t smile easily.

Which is true, she can’t deny that. She has seen him scare cops with just his look, her own love life has suffered because men are, apparently, unable to no shit themselves when Frank stares at them.

But he also has this sweet, soft side of him. Karen has been privy to it for years now, her position as his front door neighbor, friend and, later, a co-parent to Max, has allowed her to see this part of him. Before Maria, she was the one he came to when he wanted a little affection, be it company for dinner or a hand playing with his hair while he watched TV.

After Maria and after their friendship turned out to be so much more, though, Karen learned just how soft he really was.

It could be the fact that they were new, the discovery that what they felt for each other ran much deeper than they both realized, but hugs were a rule. Lots of hugs, long and lingering.

He took his job as the big spoon quite seriously, but lying down on his stomach with his head on her belly, one arm hugging her like a body pillow was also a favorite.

“Ow, Frank, too tight”, was a sentence she said constantly, when he carried her off the floor in a bear hug every time he came back from one of his travels. Eventually, he learned not to squeeze so hard when greeting her, and she learned that he was not going to break her, just let him do his thing.

.:.

[AFTER]

He never, honestly, thought too much of it. Frank was never one to feel proud when women pranced around wearing his shirts, hoodies, stuff like that. Maria was the only one he actually liked seeing in his clothes, but she only started doing that after she got pregnant, because they were comfortable and “didn’t squeeze” her.

Karen started doing it a year after they first met.

As independent and strong as she is, she grew up with a big brother, one who took to protect her from anything and everything. He was the one thing she missed from home.

So, sometimes, she would wear one of his shirts on her laundry day. Then, on rainy days that she neither wanted nor needed to leave the house, curling up with blankets and socks and a book.

It stopped when she started dating Murdock. For a year, she would prance around with Columbia shirts, boxing gym shirts, dress shirts and hoodies that didn’t belong to Frank.

After Matt and Maria and after Max and after she was Gosnell took her and they became  _them_ , she went back to wearing his shirts in cold days, in hot days, in days she was bored, when she went to walk Max and just threw on jeans and went out.

And Frank started liking it. Started appreciating watching her walk around the house in his shirts, started liking smelling her perfume on them when he put them on.

.:.

[AFTER, MOVING DAY]

Frank was sitting on the floor, unpacking stuff he would keep in the office/guest room of the new place, when Karen walked in.

“Ok, I’m gonna ask you this, and I want you to tell me the truth.”

Turning around to look at her, Frank held his breath when he saw the Smith & Wesson on her hand.

“How many guns do you keep in the house?”

Blinking once, Frank stared at her, trying to come up with a nice way to say it.

“Just tell me”, she said after five seconds.

“Seventeen.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she stared back at him, eyes wide.

“Sevente- Why do you need seventeen guns in the house?”

“Protection. Safe keeping. Just in case”, he listed, eyeing the way she was holding it, hand closed around the grip, finger away from the trigger.

“Do you want me to get rid of them?”

She looked at the weapon.

“No”, she said after pondering for a moment. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. But can you tell me where they all are?”

“Sure.”

“Ok.”

He made a mental note of asking her about that strange expression later. Maybe it was shock, but he thought he saw something that looked like interest there.

**Author's Note:**

> Come on. Show me some love


End file.
